Confessions
by Spin11
Summary: The truth finally comes out when Sara and Ian confront each other.


Confessions

A/N: Yes I live! My humblest apologizes for being MIA. For those who are curious I am still working on my others. It's just very, very, very, slow in coming. But as a peace offering I give you this. Actually found this idea hidden away while I was trying to get some inspiration to finish up my other stories. Hope you enjoy.

Love- The Elusive Spin

The sounds of glass shattering below in the empty alley near her apartment building awoke Sara from her restless sleep. She sat in her bed and listened again. Making sure she just wasn't hearing things. There it was again the distinctive sounds of glass breaking. She walked over to her window in time to see an empty liquor bottle being thrown down and onto the ground. Someone was on the roof top pitching glass bottles over the edge.

Sara opened her window and yelled up, "Hey asshole what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sara waited for an answer but none came. She looked out in time to see another bottle haphazardly thrown over the edge. With a heavy sigh Sara hopped into a pair of jeans and slipped into a heavy sweater. At first she contemplated on taking her gun. She looked down at the Witchblade realizing she was already well armed.

She made her way out onto her fire escape and cautiously made her way up towards the roof top. Before reaching the last rung of the steel ladder she spared a glance at the Witchblade. It remained dull and cold. No danger there she thought. Finally she made her way to the top only to be surprised by who she saw.

"Nottingham? Just what the fuck do you think your doing?" Sara crossed her arms against her chest, shivering when a gust of wind blew. "What did I tell you about stalking me and lurking around my apartment?"

Ian was sitting down on the gravel covered roof top, his back against the ledge. Next to him was a bag filled with bottles, liquor to be exact, of what Sara couldn't tell. But what she could tell was that Ian was drunk and it didn't look like he was stopping anytime soon. Ian took a swig from the bottle in his hand. He stopped to look around, "If I'm not misstaken, Sa-ra. We are on a rroof top and not in your partment." Ian took another gulp, empting out the contents and tossing the bottle over his shoulder.

He reached into the bag and pulled out another bottle. "And I'm not stalking you, Sa-RA! I'm drinking. See?" He brought the opening of the bottle to his lips. He leaned his head back and clumsily drank. Most of the liquid had run down his bearded chin and down his shirt. That didn't seem to bother Ian all that much. He continued to drink until half of the bottle was gone.

"Alright smartass just what the hell are you doing here, huh?" For once Ian didn't seem phased by Sara's biting tone. Perhaps the alcohol was finally kicking in, doing what Ian had hoped it would, to feel numb and empty inside. "Wanna a taste, Saa-RA?" Ian held the bottle up and lightly shook it. Sara stood there with her arms crossed, an angry glare on her face, and an eyebrow drawn up. Ian innocently looked up, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "No?" He shrugged his shoulders and took another swig.

Sara closed her eyes and sighed. She began to rub her temples, already feeling a headache coming on. She moved from her spot and walked over to Ian, her arm extended out. "Give me the bottle, Nottingham." Ian frowned and shook his head. "No it's mine. You can't have it!" His arm wrapping around the bottle hiding it from Sara's outstretched hand.

"Nottingham! The bottle now!" Sara ordered sternly. Using the ledge for support, Ian unsteadily got to his feet. He turned to face Sara and leaned forward, "No!" Just when he was about take another drink, Sara quickly reached out to grab the bottle and tossed it over the side.

"Hey!" Ian watched as the contents splattered across the pavement. He pointed down to the ground and stared at Sara. "I wasn't finished with that!" Sara only raised her eyebrow. Ian ignored her and turned to retrieve another from the bag. He lightly swayed on his feet dangerously close to the edge. Worried that he was going to fall over Sara reached out and grabbed his arm. She was able to pull him back a few steps before he wrenched his arm free.

Ian flashed Sara a contemptuous stare before turning his back on her. He didn't see her placing her hands on her hips or the ardent look on her face. "Look Nottingham you're obviously drunk. Why don't you just pack up your shit up, go home and sleep it off. Above all leave me the hell alone!" Sara's back stiffened as she watched Ian slowly make his way back towards the ledge. Still a little unsteady on his feet. He stopped when his feet touched the side of the ledge.

He closed his eyes against another gust of wind as it cooled his fevered forehead. It would be so easy he thought as he felt his body sway. All he had to do was lean forward just far enough and it would be over.

What would she do? Would she cry over me? Mourn even? No, he thought. She wouldn't do any of those things. Why should she. It's not like she cares. Ian so trapped in his morbid thought didn't hear Sara calling to him.

"Nottingham? Nottingham!"

"What!" He responded irritably.

"Could you step away from the ledge and get over here." Sara ordered a sense of pleading was heard in her voice.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why? Why! Shit I don't know, um, how about this so you don't accidentally fall over the edge and get yourself killed. How's that for a reason why?" A bit of trepidation was tingling in the back of her mind as he stood there.

"Why do you care Sara?" Ian's voice had frighteningly lowered. He looked over his shoulder to stare at her.

"I don't but I'm not going to risk you taking a swan dive over the edge."

Ian nodded his head slowly. He raised his leg and rested his foot on the ledge. Sara frowned, her heartbeat racing seeing how close he was.

Ian leaned forward, for a brief moment he lost his balance as he staggered slightly to the side. He reached his hand out, steadying himself. Sara reflexively reached out with both hands, ready to help him. But with the distance between them if he had fallen over she would she have been able to save him?

"Just get you ass over here, Nottingham. NOW!" Sara yelled, her frustration mingling with her fears.

Ian stared longingly over the edge. He was suddenly pulled out of his reverie when Sara finally moved from her spot. She reached out, grabbed a handful of his coat and yanked him back. Because of his drunken state, and the added strength from the Witchblade, Ian ungracefully stumbled backwards. Sara placed herself between the ledge and Ian, arms crossed at the chest.

"I don't know what kind of games you're playing at but I'm not in the mood alright. Just what the hell is the matter with you Nottingham?"

"Leave me alone, Sa-RA!"

"I don't think so."

"Why do you care if anything happens to me?"

"I don't really." She tried to say nonchalantly. But she knew deep down in her heart she did.

"So you won't care if I," Ian let the sentence trail off as he directed his head towards the pavement below. Sara pursed her lips together.

Ian snorted and shook his head, "Or perhaps you're worried that if I do take a flying leap over the edge you'll be stuck with my case? I tell you what, Sa-ra. I'll make it easy for you, if you could be so kind and retrieve a pen and paper then I'll write a suicide note. That way you won't have to worry about the paper work how does that sound to you?"

Sara rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's not funny Nottingham! What's you're problem anyway?"

"You Sara! You're my problem!"

Ian turned around and looked at her. The effects of the alcohol was slowly eating away any of Ian's inhibitions, his usual disciplined demeanor was gone. All the pent up emotions and frustration that had been suppressed were swiftly rising.

Everything he had wanted to say to her was hanging at the tip of his tongue. Nothing was holding him back now. He didn't care anymore. He didn't care how she would react, what she would do, or say. This was something that he was too afraid to do in the beginning but not anymore.

"Excuse me!" Sara's brows furrowed as she stared disbelievingly. Did he just yell at me? She thought. "How the hell am I your problem, huh?" She demanded.

"You're just so stubborn and, and, and," Ian struggled to find the word until finally, "frustrating! You just make my life so complicated."

"Whoa, I think you got the roles reversed there pal. You're the one who's making **MY** life complicated. I ask you to leave me alone but do you listen no. You continue to lurk around, continue to stalk me, and you continue to being an all around irritating asshole." Sara pointed out.

"And you are just a bitch!" Ian retorted. Sara's mouth dropped open and she just stood there stunned. It wasn't the first time she had been called a bitch. Heck she had been called worse by so many different people. But this was Ian Nottingham. This was really the first time she had seen him this way. He's never really yelled at her let alone swore.

Sara rounded on Ian, yanking him back towards the middle of the roof top. As much as she wanted to deck him right there, she tried to remain calm. Resorting to violence would only make matters worst.

"Look Nottingham you're drunk so why don't you just stop and go home, sleep it off." Sara said as calmly as she could. Ian shook his head and moved closer to her.

"Perhaps I am drunk but I won't stop. This needs to be done. I have things I want to say to you. Things I have held back," Ian resisted the urge to touch her. So close yet so far he thought. "Too afraid of what you may think about me. Ironic isn't it?" Sara sighed as she crossed her arms.

"Why do you hate me so much, Sara?" Ian stared deeply into hers. It was obvious his question took her off guard. "What have I done to receive such animosity from you?"

Sara brows furrowed, "What you don't know?" She replied sarcastically.

"I know this all I have ever wanted to do was help you, serve you, and protect you. Yet you refuse me."

"Yeah well you sure have a funny way of protecting me Nottingham." Recalling how he had put out a hit on her, sending his Black Dragon buddies out to kill her.

"As I seem to recall I saved **your ass** from being crushed with a concrete slab. Then witchy here decides to bring you back to life after I pulled that arrow out of your heart."

"I never asked you to bring me back to life, Sara."

"You ungrateful bastard! What you just expected me to let you die?"

"Yes! I expected to die that day!"

"_I was deluded when I came to you. I was following through on some order, some impulse, that I don't even understand!"_

"_The only way for you to save your beloved Sara is for you to kill me ... or die trying." _

"_Then so be it."_

Sara's eyes widen from his sobering confession.

Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tilting his head back, he looked up into the starry night. There up above was the moon, full and bright.

"_You love her"_

"_Yes"_

"_Better to love the moon. She is easier to touch…warmer, too."_

"_Sara **is** the moon." _

Yet, even it all its glory, the moon could not compare to the magnificent beauty of the woman that stood behind him.

The affects of the alcohol were quickly wearing off, leaving him bereft and afraid. It had, for a time being, left him numb. But now he could feel it creeping back in. The pain was returning. A tear began to fall from his eye, then another, and another until it was too much and it blurred his vision. Ian should have known that reasoning with her would be hopeless.

"Why?" He finally spoke, his voice shaky. "Why did you choose to save me, Sara? When all there is…is hatred towards me."

She was hesitant. How could she respond to that? Why he asks. She didn't know the answer herself. Ashamed, Sara hung her head.

He received no answer. Then again, perhaps he knew he wasn't going to get one. What did he expect for her to say? 'I don't hate you. I love you. I need you. We can be inseparable.' He shook his head, 'You're a freak, Nottingham to even entertain such a stupid notion.' Slowly, he made his way back to the ledge.

Hearing his footsteps, Sara quickly looked up. "Nottingham!"

He stopped but did not turn around. Cautiously, Sara followed him just in case he had any ideas. Yet, stayed back as to not invade his personal space…or was it hers she was worried about?

"What do you want me to say, huh?" Sara watched for his reactions. His shoulders were slumped and the aura around him was cold and unfeeling. "Why can't you just be happy that you're alive?"

This time Ian turned around, not bothering to hide the pain from his face. "Alive? Happy?" He moved closer to Sara and grabbed her arm, the one that held the blade. "What makes you think I'm alive now?"

He placed her hand on his chest and over his heart. She struggled against his grip but he wouldn't let go. "I may walk, breathe, and my heart may still beat. But what makes you think I'm alive inside?"

Sara stopped her struggling and looked up into his hurtful eyes. Against her will tears began to form. There was so much sadness there. She had to look away.

"_Take the cause out of the man, there is no cause for a man." _

"Why bring me back to this dismal existence, Sara. When the one reason I live, for the one person I live for does not want me. She cannot even stand the very presence of me."

Letting go of her hand, Ian began to back up. "It would have been better if you had let me die that day, Sara."

"No," she whispered, "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Stopping just as the back of his calves hit the ledge.

Sara stood there, struggling with herself. She closed her eyes, remembering that day he came to her asking not to forgive him but to merely understand. She watched him walk away and unbeknownst to her at the time, into the arms of death. She stood there, tears falling from her eyes.

She could not explain why she followed him. Why she saved him from Mobius. Or even why she brought him back to life. All she knew was that there had been an emptiness left behind when he had walked away. And it grew as she watched him take that arrow. The emptiness made her feel so cold, and alone. It felt as if it were her heart that had been pierced through. She could not let him die. She could not let him leave her. No, not again.

Suddenly the image of him being barraged with bullets flashed before her mind. Again risking his life for hers. Yet, that didn't happen. Right? Sara gasped as the vision ended.

"Why do you do it…Ian?"

The sound of his first name caught his attention. He stared at her.

"Why do you risk so much for me?"

"Is it because of this?" Holding up her wrist and showing off the Witchblade. It was always about the blade. Always.

Ian shook his head, "I respect the Witchblade and the powers it posses. But," She watched as he cautiously approached her, "It is not the reason why I risk so much." As much as her mind screamed for her to run, to leave, to push away, her heart told her otherwise.

Ian didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late. With his eyes locked with hers, he raised his ungloved hand to her cheek. Wiping away tears which had escaped

"Why?"

How could he tell her without scaring her away? Or becoming vulnerable to her rejection and risking his heart. How? A small smile graced his lips,

"Isn't it obvious, Sara?"

As she continued to stare into his eyes she realized that it was. No words were said but it was there, a whispered confession drifting in the air.

"_I love you… in unguarded moments." _

Why did those words sound so familiar? Sara was sure Ian had never spoken them to her before…or did he?

Ian, on the other hand, knew otherwise. Recalling a particular dream he had just a few months before meeting Sara at the Midtown museum.

In his dream he had gone to her to confess. To bare his soul, and hope she would choose him. However, things did not turn out as he wished. No, she had turned from him, had even called him a freak. Oh, how he hated that dream. Now here he was, reliving the nightmare. Was Ian so glutton for punishment? What had he been thinking? He doubted that he could survive her rejection. Before getting his heart broken again, Ian decided it was best to leave.

Sensing the sudden change, Sara held on to Ian's arm as he began to pull away. "Don't," She couldn't let him leave. Not after his confession and not before she made hers.

"Why?" Ian threw over his shoulder, not wanting to turn around.

What could she tell him? That she suddenly had a change of heart. Wasn't it just moments ago she told him that she didn't care? Taking a deep breath, Sara cleared her mind. It was just so hard, maybe this time Sara was willing to try.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sara stared at his back. Grateful he was not facing her. She doubted that she could say anything, not when those eyes bore into hers like they do. 'Where to start?' she thought.

"It's hard for me to trust anyone. Especially now since I have the Witchblade."

_Gabriel Bowman. Daniel Germaine. Conchobar._ These were a list of names Ian thought of that she so quickly befriended, yet knew nothing about. As if sensing his train of thought, Sara began to explain, "In some sort of way, I shared a past with each one of them." Ian snorted at her reasoning. Complete strangers could walk off the streets and gain her trust. As for him, he'd have a gun pointed at his face instead.

"What about us, Sara? Can you honestly tell me that _we_ do not share a past?"

_Had any dreams lately…Sara._

Her mouth moved yet there were no words. She realized that her explanation sounded weak. She stared at him, his broad back facing her. This was the shadow, the enigma that was always there in her dreams, in her vision. The only one that remained constant.

"You're right, but you have to admit you don't make it easy for me to trust you."

Ian's head lowered in shame. Yes, she was right. Had he been open from the beginning instead of being so vague and cryptic, who knew where their relationship would be now.

"That's true. If I had only been up front with you in the beginning, but you must consider this Sara. I had another master that I served as well." Ah, yes, how could one forget someone like Kenneth Irons. That was one person Sara was certain never to trust. "It has not been easy with him gone but I am trying." Then it hit her. Regardless, Ian always found a way to help her even against Irons' strict orders. Sara was well aware of Ian's ability and yet, the man never once tried to take the blade from her. Why had she not seen it before?

"I know you've been trying and I'm sorry I never stopped to appreciate all that you've done for me."

Sara didn't know when her legs started to move, but she found herself in front of him now, her hand on his chest. She could feel his body tense at her touch. He looked at her from beneath his lashes.

"I may not be able to say I love you..."

Ian closed his eyes and bowed his head lower. He didn't want to hear her rejection. Sara gripped his face between her hands, and pulled him closer. She made sure that he was looking at her when she finally said, "But I do care for you, Ian."

Ian's eyes widen in surprise. Did he hear her right? Sara continued, "Perhaps in time, and you stop being such a pain in the ass," both smiling now, "Perhaps I'll be ready to tell you that I love…"

Before Sara could finish, Ian closed the gap between, and began to kiss her. It was a chaste kiss at first, worried that she would pull away. But as Ian felt her arms wrap around his neck, he began to deepen the kiss. And that was all that needed o be done.

So lost in each other, neither noticed the weathered old man, down below in the streets. He watched as two ancient souls finally reunite. Up above he noticed the red glow engulfing the couple. Shaking his head, Lazar began to sweep away the shattered glass covering the sidewalk. A grin forming on lips, "It's a start," he whispered to himself.

End.


End file.
